


August 30 Day WoL Challenge

by poppy_dreams



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 30 day wol challenge, Drabble Collection, F/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppy_dreams/pseuds/poppy_dreams
Summary: A collection of one-shots based off the prompts fromSea's 30 Day WoL Challengeon Tumblr. Or: The Adventures and Misadventures of one Wyra Mol'kot, Warrior of Light.Tags will be updated as each new prompt is added.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Dreamless in Early Graves (Corpse)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Corpse
> 
> Haurchefant/Wyra
> 
> This one contains MAJOR Heavensward spoilers so... don't read it if you haven't finished that expansion yet.
> 
> This is a scene I've wanted to write out ever since I went through it in-game, and this seemed like the perfect time to do it.

“Oh, do not look at me so. A smile better suits a hero.”

Wyra had given him the best smile she could through the tears streaming down her cheeks. She clutched his hand tightly in both of hers, wanting to beg him to just hold on for a little longer, just until they could get to a healer--

But his eyes slid close and his head lolled to the side before she could even get a single word out.

Her breath caught in her throat as fear seized her chest. Her mind was reeling, refusing to believe the sight in front of her -- the bloodied corpse of the man she loved, who just moments ago was standing by her side, so full of life. This had to be some kind of nightmare; this couldn’t be her new reality. She  _ couldn’t _ accept it.

“Haurchefant,” Wyra breathed, struggling to speak through the lump forming in her throat. The knight did not respond. “Haurchefant!”

Her breaths started coming in faster gasps as she sat there, frozen, clutching his hand like a lifeline. Silently, she was praying to every god there was, begging them to let him wake up again, to at least  _ stir _ and show some form of life and relieve the pain that gripped her heart. They could take her instead if they would just  _ give him back _ .

“I’m sorry,” she heard Aymeric murmur. His voice sounded so distant, even though he was crouched right in front of her, still holding Haurchefant in his arms. “I’m afraid he’s…”

He trailed off, unable to say it aloud. Wyra quickly shook her head, feeling like she couldn’t breathe.  _ Gods, no. Please. Please anything but this… _

“Haurchefant!” she cried, one hand cupping his cheek, his head resting heavily against her palm. “Haurchefant,  _ please!  _ Gods, please, don’t leave me!”

Her voice rose with every word, echoing off the walls of the Vault. Those echoes were the only response to her pleas. Haurchefant -- and the gods she’d been pleading to -- remained silent. Choking out a sob, Wyra collapsed onto him, burying her face into his neck like she’d done so many times before, when she’d curled up in his arms as they laid in bed together. His skin was still warm to the touch, and she sobbed more. This was the last time she’d ever feel his warmth again.

The other three stood silent as the Warrior of Light broke down in front of them, her body wracked with her sobs. She screamed aloud, begging for answers to the senseless pain that tore through her, choking her. She begged and bargained, willing to give everything -- even her own life -- to reverse this, to make it better again.

How could she continue on in a world where she could never see his warm smile ever again?

Finally, after her chest hurt from her crying and her voice was hoarse from her screams, she felt a gauntleted hand gently rest on her shoulder. At first, she had assumed it was Lucia, but it was Estinien’s deep voice that she heard behind her.

“We should go,” he said quietly. He sounded so uncharacteristically gentle, and somehow that was another twist to the dagger in her heart. Wyra shook her head, gripping Haurchefant tighter. She couldn’t let him go now, not yet. That would make everything too real.

“Wyra,” Estinien spoke again, in that same tone. “We can’t stay here.”

She knew he was right. There could be other knights loyal to the Archbishop still in the Vault, and Aymeric needed a healer. Trying to regain control of her breathing, she collected herself as best she could before slowly, reluctantly pulling away from Haurchefant. She gently stroked his cheek one last time and placed a final soft kiss on his forehead. 

Wyra finally stood, taking a step back. Lucia quietly knelt down and lifted Haurchefant’s body into her own arms. Aymeric stood with some difficulty, Estinien moving forward to grab him by the arm and help him up. Once he was on his feet, Lucia slowly turned towards the exit and carried Haurchefant’s body away. Aymeric and Estinien followed behind her silently.

Wyra’s eyes fell to the broken shield that had fallen to the ground after its owner was struck down. The bright glow of aether that had clung to it after the attack had long since faded, leaving only a jagged hole where the magic had pierced through, just under the crest of the unicorn that represented House Fortemps.

She gingerly picked up the shield and clutched it to her chest before turning and following the others.


	2. Heart Take Flight (Soar)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After gifting her a black chocobo, Haurchefant eagerly offers to take her on her very first flight.
> 
> Prompt: Soar
> 
> Haurchefant/Wyra
> 
> This is my attempt at writing fluff for them. I had a vague idea of what I wanted to write, but I wasn't quite sure where to take it. Enjoy anyway!

The wind buffeted her as they soared through the air on the chocobo, but Haurchefant’s laughter still reached their ears, making Wyra grin as well. His joy was infectious, as always, and she felt her spirits soaring as they were.

The Warrior of Light let herself settle back into the warm chest of the Elezen man, his arms encircling her to hold the reins. When he had gifted her this beautiful black chocobo, he insisted on taking her first flight with her, to help her adjust to her new flying mount. Really, it was just an excuse for him to whisk her away and spend some time alone together, something that seemed to be rare ever since she’d first stepped into Ishgard. She was more than happy to oblige him.

Haurchefant nuzzled her hair, his lips gently brushing against her scalp. She closed her eyes and smiled, letting herself melt under his warmth and soft touches. The remaining Scions had a brief respite while they stayed at Camp Dragonhead, awaiting news from Haurchefant’s father. As soon as they were able to enter the city, however, it seemed that whatever cursed luck seemed to follow them had picked back up again, and Wyra had hardly gotten the time to relax and take in her new surroundings.

She opened her eyes again and pulled herself away from her thoughts. There was no use dwelling on all of that now, not when she could enjoy this moment with Haurchefant. Below them stretched the snowy expanse just beyond Falcon’s Nest. The full moon was high in the sky by now, illuminating the landscape and making the snow glisten as they flew over it. This high up, the land was silent beyond the whooshing of the air past them.

A subtle change in his grip signaled for the chocobo to descend towards the snowy cliff below them. He shifted the reins to one hand while the other gently wrapped itself around her waist, holding her steady to him as the bird gracefully landed.

“Well?” he asked, the grin still evident in his voice. “What did you think of your first flight?”

“That was… amazing.” Wyra grinned, turning as much as she could in the cramped saddle to look back at him. The moonlight illuminated his face and highlighted the strands of his now-windswept silver hair. Her heart swelled at the sight.

Haurchefant swung his leg over the back of the bird, easily dismounting. He held his hand out for her, and she took it before sliding off herself. As soon as her boots touched the snowy ground, he swept her close to him, bending down for a breathless kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing herself up as high as she could onto her toes to meet him.

Slowly, he pulled away just enough to look down at her, his arms still wrapped around her tightly. Their breath lingered for a moment in the chilly air as he gazed down at her with that loving look that always filled her with such warmth.

“Forgive me, my love,” he murmured, brushing some loose strands of hair out of her face. “I must confess I had an ulterior motive for offering to show you how to fly.”

“Oh?” Wyra raised her eyebrows. Haurchefant couldn’t help but smirk a little, leaning down to brush his lips against her cheek.

“Even now, here in Ishgard, you always seem to be pulled away to your heroic duties,” he said. “I thought I would spirit you away for a short time, to spend a moment alone with you.”

She grinned and pulled him closer into a tight hug, gently nuzzling his neck. He felt so nice and warm -- a respite against the cold Coerthan air. He always seemed to know when she needed him to pull her away from her burdens and responsibilities as the Warrior of Light, and just let her be Wyra Mol’kot for a little while -- not anyone important who needed to go save the world, just a young woman who could disappear from the world for a moment into the arms of the man she loved.

“I can’t say I’m too upset by that,” she said against his skin. “I feel like ever since I came to Ishgard proper, I’ve barely had a moment to rest and take in my surroundings.”

Haurchefant sighed, shifting to press his forehead against hers. His hand came up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb softly stroking her skin. Her eyelids fluttered shut at the touch and she leaned into it, smiling softly.

“Then perhaps I should insist on further lessons,” he suggested, his smirk evident in his voice. “After all, I would be a poor host if I didn’t ensure your proper tutelage on the matter.”

Wyra chuckled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Well, I shall look forward to more of your lessons then.”


	3. I Don't Want You Like a Best Friend (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Outfit
> 
> Wyra/Estinien
> 
> Upon returning to the Rising Stones for the first time since leaving the Source, Wyra runs into an old friend. He seems to take an interest in what she's wearing...

“Oh. You’re back.”

Wyra's face lit up when she turned and saw none other than Estinien strolling through the doors of the Rising Stones. It'd been so long since she'd last seen him -- even before she was whisked away to the First -- and Estinien seemed surprised to see her there as well. She wasn't sure exactly what the Scions had told him about her trip to another world, but doubtless he likely didn't expect to run into her when he came here.

Really, it was incredible luck for them to meet by chance like this. Nymeia must’ve been smiling down on her that day.

After his initial surprise at seeing her wore off, she noticed how his eyes started to drift downward, taking in her new outfit. When he had rescued her in Ghymlit, she had only recently started her training as a dancer, and the outfit she wore then was much less revealing than the one she was wearing now. Her top was simply a bandeau that barely covered more than her breasts, with gold chains that draped down her midriff from the middle of it, accentuating her curves. The bottom part of her outfit was hardly much better, with the panels of her skirt laid in such a way as to show off her bare legs. It was an outfit meant to show off the dancer’s body, and left little to the imagination.

The change in his expression was subtle, but she knew him well enough by now to notice it. There was a hunger in his eyes as they slid down her exposed body, and then slowly back up. When his eyes locked with hers, and he realized she’d been watching him, he quickly glanced away. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining the sudden tint of color on his cheeks.

“And none the worse for wear, I see,” he muttered.

Wyra suppressed the smirk that threatened to spread on her face at this little discovery. She had always felt there was  _ something _ between her and the dragoon, though for the longest time the two of them had just left it unsaid. But now…

Well, after everything she had gone through in the First, she was feeling a little bolder.

Wyra would have to wait, though. She couldn’t exactly do much to grab his attention once more with Krile and Tataru two fulms away from them, and Tataru seemed to be waiting on a report from his own mission, besides. She’d have to try to catch him before he darted off to do gods know what, like he tended to.

Wyra saw her chance as he turned to leave, his report now finished. Excusing herself from the two Lalafellin women, she hurried after the dragoon, leaving a baffled Krile and Tataru behind her. Chasing after Estinien like this probably wasn’t exactly subtle, but she could worry about their assumptions from her actions later.

The gold pieces of her outfit made a soft jangling noise as she jogged after him, catching his attention long before she could call out to him. He turned, his usual sour expression back on his face, but that did not deter her as she caught up.

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” she asked sweetly, clasping her hands behind her back. Estinien grunted in response.

“I already told you, I have my own business to attend to,” he said gruffly, crossing his arms.

“Is it so urgent you can’t pause for a drink with an old friend?” she retorted, tilting her head a bit and giving him a smile. She gestured to the side of her. “There’s even a perfectly good bar right here. We wouldn’t have to go far.”

He was silent for a moment, studying her. Finally, he uncrossed his arms.

“I suppose I have time for a quick drink,” he relented. She beamed up at him.

The two of them sat side-by-side at a table tucked away in the corner as their drinks were placed in before them. Wyra grinned and quickly scooped her tankard up to take a gulp of it. It felt like it’d been ages since she’d had a drink at the Seventh Heaven, and something about the familiar taste of their mead after being in a completely foreign world for so long really hit the spot.

With a sigh she set her drink back down, turning to look over at Estinien, who had a small smirk behind his own cup. “Thirsty, were we?” he quipped.

“I think I earned a drink. Or three,” Wyra said with a huff, though she couldn’t stop herself from returning the smirk. Despite everything that had happened while she was in the First -- and really, everything that was  _ still _ happening between the two worlds -- she felt the most relaxed now than she had for a while. How long had it been since she’d just stopped to have a drink with a close friend?

Estinien gave her his usual grunt in response, but it was one of his friendlier ones. He took a gulp from his own drink, and she couldn’t help but watch him, her chin resting against her hand. Her eyes slid down to his neck when she caught his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, and she couldn’t help but stare a little, wondering how it’d feel to softly press her lips against the skin…

The sound of him setting his cup back on the table pulled her from her thoughts, and she glanced up to see him his eyes on her. This time it was she who was caught staring, but instead of breaking her gaze away in embarrassment, she felt a smirk growing on her lips. She really had grown much bolder.

Wyra turned to face him fully, leaning against the table a little, her hip jutting out just a little in her seat. Her tail flicked playfully behind her.

“There is something I’ve been hoping to speak to you about,” she admitted, glancing down and away from his eyes for a moment. “It’s been on my mind since I came back from the First.”   
  
“Have you now?” he prompted. Glancing up, she saw that he had turned toward her slightly as well. Once again, she’d caught his eyes wandering to her outfit once more. That gave her an extra boost of courage -- that and the new tankard of mead that was set on her table before her. She paused to take a drink from it, wondering what the best way to approach this topic was.

“Do you like my new outfit?” Wyra said finally, glancing up at him with a small smile. That seemed to take him back, and that faint flush was on his cheeks again as he looked away from her. She grinned; it was so rare to see him flustered like that. Her apprehension lessened as she took one last sip of her drink before leaning in a little closer to him. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been...taking it in.”

Estinien glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, the color not leaving his cheeks. “Did you really just want to talk about your outfit?” he muttered, frowning.

Wyra hummed, cocking her head thoughtfully. “Mm, not exactly. I just thought the way you were drawn to it was...interesting.”

He let out of a huff, a few silver strands of hair flying away from his face. Stubborn as ever, though somewhere along the years, Wyra started finding that endearing. He turned back towards her, studying her face silently. He hadn’t run away yet, so she thought it’d be safer to push a little more.

“We’ve known each other for a while,” she began, her gaze falling a little so she was looking at him through her eyelashes. Despite her previous courage, she couldn’t help but feel a little shy trying to broach the true topic. Her heartbeat picked up in her chest. “I’ve always considered you one of my closest friends, but...lately I’ve had different feelings towards you.”

Hesitating, Wyra bit her lip and watched his expression, but he kept it carefully guarded so she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Well, there was no use trying to back down now that she was already confessing her feelings. Taking a breath, she straightened up a little and looked him in the eye.

“And...I think you’ve been feeling the same way,” she finished.

A silence fell between them, and Wyra watched his face carefully, looking for any reaction to her words. At first, he kept that guarded expression, but after a moment that seemed to stretch on for an eternity to her, Estinien reached over, gently taking her chin in his hand. His thumb brushed against her lower lip softly.

He said nothing, just tilting her face up so he could close the distance between them and kiss her, deeply. Wyra’s eyes fluttered shirt, relief and excitement washing over her at his response. Her hands gripped the fabric at his chest, tugging him closer to her as she desperately returned the kiss, feeling the heat starting to rise within her as it went on. His free arm slid around her, hand pressing against her bare back to press her close to him.

They broke away for air after a moment, both of their breaths coming much faster now. Wyra looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes, taking in his features. His pupils were blown wide now with desire, and his lips were parted slightly, tongue darting out to wet them as he glanced down at her own. She reached up to gently brush her fingers against those sharp cheekbones she’d found herself admiring on more than one occasion in the past, brushing aside strands of silver hair that framed his face.

Years of tension that had built between the two over the years was finally coming to a head. Their next kiss was somehow even more heated than the last, with her hand sliding back into the hair at the nape of his neck, her fingers curling and tangling themselves into them. She couldn’t stop a small groan from escaping from her throat as his tongue slid into her mouth, pressing herself even closer to him.

When they broke away again, Estinien turned to kiss along her jawbone, then to her neck. She tilted her head slightly to give him better access, but then her gaze fell on the rest of the room. Ah yes, they were still in the Seventh Heaven, weren’t they? Thankfully, the tavern was particularly crowded by now, and its occupants were too busy getting drunk and chatting with one another to pay much attention to the two of them off in the corner.

Wyra hummed a little, tilting her head to murmur in Estinien’s ear: “Perhaps we should find somewhere more private to continue…?”

She felt his smirk against her skin as he very gently nipped at it, causing her to gasp. Pulling away, the dragoon also glanced around the room.

“Anywhere particular in mind?” he replied.

“I do have a room in the Rising Stones,” she suggested, but he frowned at that.

“I doubt we would be able to sneak past your friends’ prying eyes,” he grumbled.

Wyra hummed in agreement. If the two of them walked back into the Rising Stones, only to sneak off to the private rooms together, it would be obvious to anyone paying enough attention what was going on, and she knew well enough by now how fast gossip could travel amongst the Scions. While she was thrilled at Estinien reciprocating her feelings, she didn’t quite want everyone to know her business just yet.

The Miqo’te scanned the room, trying to think of a solution. There weren’t really any inns in Revenant’s Toll like there were in the major city-states of Eorzea, and though the Adventurer’s Guild sometimes had spare rooms for travelers in lieu of this, it posed the same potential problem as the Rising Stones.

Finally, her eyes landed on an unassuming door across the room from them, and she turned back to Estinien with a devilish grin. “I have an idea…”

Estinien raised his eyebrows as she stood, taking his hand and pulling him along. He followed silently as they surreptitiously crossed the room towards the door. Glancing behind her to make sure no one was watching, Wyra opened the door to the small broom closet and slipped inside, flashing him a grin before she pulled him in after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not only did I accdientally take a long break from this challenge, but I also let this fic get away from me so much that I had to split it into two parts, lol. The next part is going to raise the rating for this collection of fics so... get excited for that~


End file.
